


Picking Up The Pieces

by write4love8



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Conflicted Morgana, Drama & Romance, F/M, Magic, Manipulative Morgause, Pregnancy, Pregnant, Secret Relationship, Secret pregnancy, Sister-Sister Relationship, Unplanned Pregnancy, mergana - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write4love8/pseuds/write4love8
Summary: [Post Series 2 Finale] Morgana discovers that she is pregnant. The father? The same man who just poisoned her.How will Morgana process Merlin's betrayal knowing that she is carrying his child?Will Merlin ever discover that he is a father and be able to atone for what he did to Morgana and their baby?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins post Series 2 Finale. 
> 
> The story will flashback and forth from present day to flashbacks about Morgana and Merlin's relationship developing. The flashbacks are not chronological, rather they are scattered as the story progresses. 
> 
> I'm an huge lover of Morgana and the Mergana relationship. I've been dying to write something for a long time. I hope you enjoy! Please leave comments and kudos to let me know what you think.

Bright green eyes shot open as her lungs gasped for breath. She felt the stone slab beneath her body as her senses returned to her. A cold breeze whisked across her chest forcing the hairs on her neck to stand straight. She could hear the crackling of the fire, see the blur of orange and yellow light flickering. But still she shivered. The rough stone was icy beneath her fingers. And the last thing she could remember… his face. She could feel the mix of pain and betrayal churn in her stomach as the memory returned. He had held her against his chest as she struggled for air; held her just like he had during those nights when she was afraid and confused. Those nights had been precious. But was she the only one who believed that?

Suddenly a familiar voice rang in her ear. The figure came into sight as her blurred vision finally dissipated.

“Remain calm, little sister,” Morgause’s voice was low and soothing.

“Where am I?” Morgana strained with a hoarse voice.

“Somewhere safe.”

The younger woman struggled to sit up even as her head instantly began to spin and knots formed in her stomach.

“Do not rush yourself,” Morgause beckoned her. She placed her hands to her younger sister’s shoulders as she eased her back into a lying position. “While the poison is no longer in your body, you are still weak.” She brushed her hand over Morgana’s silk sleeve. “You must rest. Regain your strength for both yourself and the child.”

Morgana’s brows furrowed as her sister sat down beside her. “Child?” she asked softly.

She watched her sister’s expression grow just as confused, then change to a sense of understanding in a matter of seconds. However, she remained silent for a few more moments. “You didn’t know,” she claimed.

Morgana simply shook her head, trying to understand her sister’s cryptic words.

“My dear sister,” Morgause took her hand, “You are with child.”


	2. Broken in Pieces

The room grew silent as Morgana stared at the stone cave walls above her. Flames from the fire pit flickered throughout the space. She watched the light and shadows battle each other as her sister’s voice seemed to fade. Her heart raced as that choking sensation started to return; however, it was no longer poison that caused it. 

Her emotions were weakness according to Morgause. She couldn’t let her sister see them. So she fought the urge to cry, her heart pounding louder and louder in her chest as she buried her sadness deep within. 

As Morgana forced herself to sit up, fighting the aching in her body, she listened to her sister beckon for her to wait. 

“I’m fine,” she responded coldly. She smoothed out the wrinkles of her emerald gown— a timeless habit, yet pointless then and there. “I wish to have some time alone.”

Morgause, with a silent nod, chose to respect her sister’s wish. She took the younger woman’s hand and looked into her eyes with sympathy and understanding, though sometimes Morgana still questioned the extent of honesty in those expressions. 

As she exited the space, Morgana finally let out her held breath. She shut her eyes tightly, still trying to hold back whatever emotions she had. But the first thing to appear behind her lids was his face. Those piercing blue eyes read every inch of her while that dumb smirk soothed her every fear. Tears finally began to fall on to her cheeks. With another stuttering breath she brought her hand to her mouth to muffle the sobs as she bowed her head to the floor. 

She could not imagine any betrayal could dig so deeply… but it did. And with that pang of pain growing inside of her, she could feel herself finally breaking.

O-o-O-o-O

**_The Witchfinder:_ 2 Months Earlier**

She quietly stepped into Gaius’ chambers. Every component of the room had been turned upside down; shelves had been riffled through, books had been torn open, every facet of the poor man’s being had been searched.

“Merlin?” she said softly. The boy remained frozen at the center of the room, his hand gently resting on a twenty-year-old science book that had been carelessly ripped to pieces. She approached him cautiously.

“Gaius is innocent.”

She was unsure of what to say, of what to do. Truly, she had come to him for her own selfish reason. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would already have enough to worry about with Gaius’ sudden imprisonment. With a mixed pang of guilt and sympathy, she reached forward placing a gentle hand upon his. It was cold and callused.

Merlin turned around, blue eyes meeting with soft green. He cradled the lady’s hand in his, stroking her elegantly soft skin as if to thank her silent gesture.

Morgana’s sympathetic gaze soon changed, her expression clearly revealing a sense of fear and unrest. She opened her mouth, though nothing but a quiver of her lip and a short breath escaped from it. Finally, her meek voice emerged. “I’m afraid of being alone tonight,” she admitted.

“Morgana, I would never let Aredian hurt you,” Merlin replied, bringing a hand up to caress her left cheek.

She met her hand with his, weaving her fingers in between. His touch was comforting. “I suppose my paranoid mind is getting the better of me,” she tried dismissing her fear like she always did.

“I shall do everything in my power to protect you,” he whispered, “and to prove Gaius’ innocence.” He brushed several strands of her long ebony hair behind her ear before gently kissing her forehead.

Morgana allowed herself to lean into his kiss, her right hand pressing firmly against his chest. Once again, the words she wished to express were hesitant to come out. As his lips parted from her warm skin, she innocently stared up at him. “Could I stay here?”

Merlin sighed with regret. “The threat of Uther is just as dangerous as Aredian. You know this.” He watched tears well in her eyes. She knew the consequences if they were ever discovered, but she always questioned the pain she felt in keeping so many secrets.

“Please, Merlin,” she beckoned. This time she could not allow herself to be alone with her fears.

With a silent nod, he kissed her head once more before guiding her to his chambers.

O-o-O-o-O

The room was small, a closet compared to her own chambers. Merlin possessed very few material possessions, but he had basic necessities: a bed, a table beside it, and a small dresser. She had wondered but never truly known how the boy lived. She remembered the glimpse of what she had seen in Ealdor, but there wasn’t much else that Merlin would willingly share with anyone.

Merlin scurried around to make up the bed for her. “I’m sorry I cannot offer you more.”

“Don’t apologize,” Morgana replied.

He glanced up at her with another apologetic look. She stood there, her elegantly laced white gown flowing to the floor, her dark hair slightly mangled yet lightly kept, with an arm folded over her abdomen— it was often her sign of hesitancy. Merlin stood and approached her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. 

Almost instantly, Morgana stepped into a closer embrace, her head resting in the crevice of his neck, her hand caressing the fabric over his chest. No words had to be spoken, he simply knew she needed to be held and to be comforted. So again, he kissed her head and let her close her eyes for the moment.

With his warm breath hitting her hair and the calm rhythm of his beating heart, the king’s ward began to pray. No, she was not religious in any way, she didn’t pray to any one entity, rather she just felt herself overcome with a new sense of hope while standing there in his arms so silently. She could remain there for the rest of her life, calm and happy. And if she did, it would be one worth living.

She lifted her head to see his face. As their eyes met, she watched that gentle smile form on his lips, the one that always assured her of his true feelings. He would protect her; she could trust him. Her hand migrated from his chest up to the left side of his jaw as she slowly pulled him toward her in an affectionate kiss. She felt his hand cradle the back of her head, his fingers weaving through her thick hair.

Merlin felt himself jump ever so slightly as the young woman’s hands began to lift his shirt and expose his scarred skin. His sudden reaction forced her stop as she opened her eyes again and stared at him nervously. Perhaps she had taken it a step too far, she feared. His eyes spoke with a mixture of hesitancy and longing. He respected her far too much to take advantage of her; he cared for her too much to push her away. He felt her cold fingers touch his hot skin ever so slightly, watched her expression carefully. _It’s alright._ He somehow heard her voice echo in his head. Though he wasn’t sure if she knew that he could hear her.

Slowly, the boy crossed his arms over his abdomen and pulled his shirt over his head in one swift motion. He stared at her as he let the fabric fall to the floor. Her eyes were glued to the scars that painted his arms and torso. Ever so gently, she brought her hand to the set of scars covering the left side of his waist. Though her hands were cool, their touch felt soothing. She caressed the wounds on his pale body from the ones at his waist to deep cut on his right shoulder— the first in a long line of injuries since he had arrived in Camelot.

Morgana wondered about each scar on the servant’s body. Where were they from? When were they from? There was still so much mystery to Merlin that she desired to understand, yet she trusted him, loved him, just the same. She could feel her heart pounding as she moved her hands along his warm skin, following the curves of his shoulders, feeling the softness of his hair. Again she kissed him, this time pressing firmly against his body.

She felt him fidgeting with the complicated laces at her lower back and couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. It was the first time she had been able to laugh in days. With another gentle peck on his lips, she turned around pulling her hair over her right shoulder. He nervously fumbled with the top fastening— not like he had ever done this before. The top latch of the gown fell open revealing her bare back, free of painful scars, free of harmful sunlight, and of any kind of strain; it was soft to the touch, smooth and elegant, like a child’s. 

The rough hands of a servant brushed over her delicate skin as she let the fabric over her shoulders fall. His right cheek rested against her head. She closed her eyes as he asked, “Are you alright?” in a soft whisper. She leaned into his cheek, feeling the sharpness of his jawline against her head, and nodded twice. Then she let the gown fall, exposing herself to the cold and to him. With a deep breath, she felt his kiss on her head once again. His arms slid around her waist, warming the skin over her lower abdomen. The kisses traveled downward from her head, to her neck, to her shoulder. Her heart continued to race with every sweet moment. 

As she turned back towards him, Morgana paused. She could see it in his eyes, could feel it in the way he touched her, the way he looked at her and spoke to her. 

“I love you,” she finally whispered with gentle grin.

“I always have,” he replied. “And I always will.”

O-o-O-o-O

**Present Day**

She felt so cold even by the fire. Perhaps her unbridled sadness was what blocked the heat from the flames. Another stray tear ran down her cheek, the same cheek he would caress before kissing her, the same cheek that blushed when he brought her flowers. She closed her eyes and could still feel the ghost of his touch, of his kiss. She didn’t know whether to cry or to scream in anger. She didn’t know what he was thinking in that very moment. Did he regret it? Did he think she was dead? 

Golden embers popped and crackled as she stepped closer to the small stone pit. She held out her right hand, the left comfortably resting on her lower abdomen. Nothing. She felt no heat, no burning. She was alive, that she knew, but not as a whole. A piece of her had died in Camelot and a piece of her was there. Then there was that piece inside of her… She bowed her head and looked at where her left hand rested. That piece of her and that piece of him growing within her.


	3. Igniting the Fire

Morgause entered the dark and silent throne room where King Cenred sat waiting. His expression remained stern and cold as she sat beside him with unbridled confidence. 

“After that last failed attempt, I do not see why you insist on trying to suade the Lady Morgana as our ally. It is clear that she is far too weak-”

“The boy Merlin did present a setback. It was unexpected considering his relations with my sister. But do not be so quick as to dismiss her abilities. She and that child are of use to us in more ways than one.” The woman reached for the second goblet set on the table between them. “While her anger and hatred for Uther may not be enough to ignite fire in Morgana, I believe I have discovered what will.”

“That being?”

Morgause sipped the bitter red liquid from the golden cup. She always favored a dramatic pause before revealing her far more superior ideas to lesser men. “A mother’s only desire is to give her child the best life she can offer. Morgana’s passion and compassion often fuels her actions against Uther. Knowing her child’s life hangs in that balance is all the motivation she will need.”

“How are you so sure of this? The Lady Morgana is no doubt aware of the reputation and the dangers she faces bearing an illegitimate child, especially being Uther’s ward. She may very well want nothing to do with it.” Cenred, though he always argued Morgause’s logic, knew very well the sorceress would have an answer.

“The servant boy, Merlin… He is the father.”

“That does not answer-”

The woman interrupted, “She still loves him…. _That_ ,” she continued, “is how I know.”

O-o-O-o-O

**_The Beginning of The End:_ 1 year ago**

Morgana stood from her vanity table at the sound of soft knocking. She glanced at the large wooden door to her bedchambers with a mixture of fear and hope. “Come in,” she replied. 

“Milady.” The door slowly opened with a creek revealing the dark-haired servant. 

As the door closed firmly behind him, the King’s ward approached, her long evening gown trailing behind her. “Have you heard anything? Has Arthur returned?” she asked. Nervousness and growing fear filled her enchanting green eyes. 

Merlin nodded, his hand clutching the sleeping draught Gaius had given to him— a valid excuse to visit the lady’s chambers. “He returned a little while ago. The boy is safe and with his people again.”

The young woman sighed with relief as a wide smile formed on her lips. In the moment, she impulsively wrapped her arms around the servant’s neck in an embrace. “Thank you, Merlin.”

As she backed away from him, Morgana noticed the strange look of shock on his face. The gratitude in her eyes quickly changed to embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice had deepened in a much more regal tone. “That was rather forward of me.”

“No, no, Milady,” Merlin stuttered, still somewhat in shock. “It’s quite alright.” 

He smiled at her, that smile that somehow managed to make her feel as though everything was alright. It was gentle, and his calm blue eyes–though they looked intense–were in fact warm and inviting. Morgana bowed her head to the floor and let out a quiet chuckle as her cheeks blushed a soft pink.

“Uhh…” The young man hesitated for words as he held out the small vial for her. “Gaius…”

He needn’t finish the sentence as she nodded. Her fingers were cold as they caressed his skin, taking the sleeping draught from his hand. She was slow to retreat. It was as though his touch gave her comfort. Something about it was different than that of the King, or Arthur, or her maid servant, Gwen. It was almost identical to that strange connection she felt to the druid boy, but it was something she couldn’t quite explain. 

She looked into his eyes once more. “Thank you, Merlin,” she repeated as before. “For everything.”

The servant grinned softly and nodded. “You’re welcome, Mi- _Morgana._ ” With another nod, he exited the room, leaving the young woman at ease with the druid boy dilema, yet curious about something else.

O-o-O-o-O

**Present Day**

Morgana wiped away the lingering tears from her cheeks as she stood by the window of her new bedchamber. A proper bed and the four solid stone walls surrounding her had definitely been an improvement over the coldness and discomfort of the caves. King Cenred, a close ally of Morgause’s, had offered them sanctuary from Uther’s men. In return, Morgause made a promise to him, one that Morgana was unaware of and was too distracted to ask.

The young woman took a few deep breaths to calm her sadness. Echoing footsteps growing nearer forced her to turn around and meet her sister with a false grin. 

Morgause brought her sister into her embrace. “You are not alone, little sister.”

Morgana nodded silently as Morgause brushed a strand of dark hair from her face. Her gentle touch was of some comfort.

She let out a soft chuckle—the first hint of laughter in months. “I suppose I’ll never have to fear being alone again.” She bowed her head letting her hands fall from her stomach to her side.

“Then what is it that ails you?”

She quickly shook her head and looked her sister in the eye. Her heart filled with what could only be described as guilt. “I know after what happened… I shouldn’t. I should hate him, but-”

Morgana knew that her sister believed it to be child’s nonsense. She was embarrassed even discussing what she already had with her. She felt so foolish telling her sister that she somehow still loved the man who tried to kill her only days before. A part of her felt undoubtedly betrayed; that she could not deny. But the hurt far outweighed the anger. From the first moment they had touched, Morgana had known that they had some sort of connection. She could trust in him wholeheartedly and never fear what he would do because she knew. The honest belief in that connection only made his final actions towards her all that more painful. 

The young woman’s dark and gentle curls swung to her back as she turned away. As she sat at the end of her bed, so obviously conflicted in her emotions, Morgause approached her once again.

“I understand your pain and your confusion,” she sat beside Morgana and took a hold of her hands. Her tone seemed so sympathetic. “The bond you held was strong, so strong in fact that it created this beautiful little thing, this child. A child who will someday possess this gift.”

Morgana’s brow furrowed. “You can’t know for sure that our baby will have magic,” she denied. 

“Both of our gifts were passed down by our mother,” Morgause pointed out. She placed her left hand to her little sister’s stomach, the right cupping the young woman’s jaw. “Your child deserves to grow up without the fear and condemnation that our people suffer. The fear of execution simply for having a gift.”

Morgana suddenly felt a churning in her stomach and a tightness in her chest. The thought of not only her own execution but her child’s suddenly haunted her mind. And she was well aware that Uther gave no mercy when it came to possessing magic. He wouldn’t even blink twice before sentencing a child to death; he had done it many times before. 

“Morgana, I know you already love this child.” She watched her sister’s eyes well with tears. “And what is best for its future…. A world where it can be free…. A world without Uther Pendragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments! Thank you!!!


	4. Unable to Let Go

Camelot had grown quiet, darker even, since the attempted siege. Merlin had grown to prefer the chaos and the action. It was the best way to distract himself from his own thoughts. Now, in the silence of the kingdom, he was forced to deal with his internal conflicts. 

Merlin buried his face in his palms. The fear in her eyes were still clear in his mind. Her faint breaths as she gripped his arms. He pulled her in close and held her the way he knew gave her comfort. Her breaths grew shorter as he stared up at the heavens and prayed that she would someday forgive him for this betrayal. _I’m so sorry,_ echoed in his head as her grip loosened. He buried his face into her thick dark hair and kissed her head.

It was for Arthur, he would tell himself. The tragedy that the Crown Prince would suffer if his father had been assassinated, if Camelot had succumb to Morgause’s knights… it would have broken him. Merlin had to do what he did. But now… was Arthur not still broken? Was not Uther? Gwen? Himself?

Morgana had been a part of each of them. With her gone, pieces were missing. Uther sulked, Arthur searched, and Gwen denied it. Merlin, however, had to suffer the most difficult part of it all: knowing. She was alive, he could feel it in his bones. In his magic. She was with Morgause who was undoubtedly capable of manipulating her, twisting her against the rest of them. What he had done to her would only fuel Morgause’s plan for her. 

Every day he would watch as Gwen brought flowers to her bedchamber, acting as though Morgana was just away on a short pilgrimage or even just roaming about the castle. He’d stand in the corner of the throne room as Arthur would plan out new courses of action for search parties, so dedicated and so hopeful that this would be the day he’d find her. 

Uther had basically become a ghost in his own kingdom, the loss of Morgana hitting him the way the loss of his own child would. Merlin had not seen the King himself, though he would accompany Arthur during the twelfth hour of the day every day. He would remain outside of the King’s bedchambers while Arthur spent exactly thirty minutes with him in private. Whether he was trying to motivate his father to emerge from the dark chambers or simply informing him of his search plans, Merlin did not know. The first time he had questioned Arthur about it, he received a firm warning from his master not to pry again. The lack of witty comment or bantering tone that the Prince usually had confirmed that he should not push it. 

Gaius was the only one who seemed unphased by all of this. The old man had been through so much in his lifetime, however, that Merlin figured not much could still phase him. If it did, he was very good at hiding the fact. Still, he would let Merlin confide in him and voice his inner conflict with himself. He was the only other person who knew about his history with Morgana… all of it.

The problem was that Gaius believed Merlin had done the right thing. He would assure the boy every time, tell him that he had no other choice. At first Merlin felt that this assurance was what he needed; he _had_ done the right thing. But then why was it still weighing on his conscience? Why was he still questioning it?

At night, he would venture to her chambers. Perhaps he had this irrational thought that she’d magically show up one of those nights. It was not much different from Gwen’s or Arthur’s hopes after all. The moonlight would stream through the tall, castle windows. Sometimes, he would listen to the wind whistle against the stone wall. The vase of fresh flowers that Gwen had left out that day would be on the same spot on the same table. He would smell the soft scent and be reminded of how her hair always seemed to smell just as sweet. With his eyes shut tightly, he could see her face, her glistening smile and enchanting eyes.

Then he would remember how quickly he had destroyed everything. As he’d look around the room, the voice in his head reminded him of what he had given up… his own chance at happiness and love. For a moment he would question if his loyalty to Arthur was worth it. What kind of life could he have had had he chosen differently? Love, happiness, honesty. What kind of destiny would force him to give up so much just for this tiny shred of hope? 

But then the moment would pass. It had to. How could he live with himself otherwise?

O-o-O-o-O

**  
__  
**

**_Sweet Dreams:_ 6 weeks earlier**

The smile on her lips widened when she heard the knock at her bedchamber door. She paced over with a sense of childish excitement. With a click of the latch and gentle tug of the handle, she permitted him to enter without a sound. She turned to him, leaning back against the door to shut it. Even before the secure click, her fingers had taken a hold of his tunic and pulled his body towards hers. Their lips locked in a fervent kiss.

Merlin let out a frantic yet still quiet mumble as he gently pushed the lady away. “Morgana, we need to be careful.” He caressed her arms from her shoulders to her delicate hands. “There are five times the regular amount of guards in the castle right now.”

The green-eyed beauty chuckled at the servant boy’s frantic nature. “Everyone’s attention is fully focused on the peace treaty.” She stepped closer once more, her hands migrating towards his chest. “Besides,” she playfully pecked his lips, “no one is paying attention to anything I do when King Olaf’s precious daughter Vivian is around.”

Merlin cocked his head as she leaned in for another kiss. “Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?”

“Not at all,” she replied with a defensive raised brow and that half-cocked playful grin she always gave. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and forced another heated kiss.

“W-We st-still need t-to be careful,” Merlin managed to get out.

As their lips parted once more, she gazed deeply into the blue waters of his eyes. Her hands melted downward, caressing his torso, until they fell to her sides. She nodded in agreement. 

“I hate this.” Morgana paced over to her dining table. She laid her palms flat on the surface and bowed her head in frustration. 

“Morgana, I didn’t-”

“I know,” she replied. “But you are right. Uther would kill you if we were ever caught.”

Merlin approached her from behind, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. He kissed the left side of her head as he pressed his warm body against hers. “Then we won’t get caught,” he whispered, burying his face in the crevice of her neck.

“Even then,” she sighed, her hands intertwining with his, “I am the King’s ward.”

“I am well aware of that,” the servant chuckled.

“What I mean is,” she turned to face him, “come my next birthday, Uther will be undoubtedly searching for suitors.” She watched his brow furrow with the sudden realization. “Even if we manage to keep this secret, it will only be a matter of time before he hands me off to some prince or lord as part of a diplomatic conquest.”

He wished he could give some kind of answer that would leave her content and hopeful, but truthfully he didn’t have one. They were both aware that leaving Camelot was not an option after the incident with Morgana and the Druids. Uther was more than willing to execute countless innocent people to see her returned to him. There was no doubt he would do it again.

“Someday,” he weaved his fingers through her soft hair as she rested her head beneath his chin. “Someday, when Arthur is King…. We will be together.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I _know_ Arthur,” he replied. “He’s not like his father. You know this too.” He kissed the top of her head. “He believes in love, and he understands.”

She wanted to say that by the time Arthur becomes King, it would be too late. Time was not on their side. However, she simply stared up at him instead. Her left hand cupped his right cheek. Her thumb caressed his smooth pale skin before she lifted her chin towards his and captured his lips. 

They both felt a gentle tingling sensation as the kiss lingered, like static clinging to a new fabric. She wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing her body to press directly against his. His hands still gentle though filled with desire, pressed firmly against her back, keeping her locked in his embrace. 

While she knew he held out for hope, she treated every moment as though it could have been their last. She could not help but think realistically when it came to their situation. Every breath, every kiss, every touch she tried to memorize. His gentleness; his kindness. The sound of his voice; the color of his eyes. 

As the night went on, they lied close to each other, becoming one. After their night together those few weeks ago, she knew she didn’t want this feeling with anyone else. She knew she _couldn’t_ have this feeling with anyone else.

She stared at his calm expression as he slept soundly beside her that evening. She brushed her fingers ever so gently over his chest. This was all she wanted… and she couldn’t lose him. _Whatever it takes._ She thought as she pulled herself closer to him. Resting her head upon his shoulder, her hand directly over his heart, she closed her eyes. 

_Whatever it takes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of giving little twists to cannon plot. I wanted to figure out a way to really integrate Merlin and Morgana's relationship into all of it. Then I thought: What if Morgana's love for Merlin, her longing to be with him, was the reason she allied herself with Morgause to rid of Uther? She believed there was no other way. Fun twist! hope you liked the idea as much as I do!


	5. In the Midst of Magic

She listened to light trickling of the water and the soothing song coming from the birds in the trees. Morgana would walk to the river every couple of days as way to retreat from the familiarity of her bedchambers. She still remained close enough to the castle for it to be considered safe, though she knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself between her skills and basic knowledge of her magic. The place simply gave her a more peaceful kind of solitude by comparison. She could sit and truly think without her mind being twisted in every direction possible.

With a calm smile, Morgana rested a hand on her small bump as she sat on a flat boulder by the water. She closed her eyes and released a deep breath. 

The past few months had been one of enlightenment for the young woman: coming to terms with her lover’s betrayal, with becoming a mother, with learning how to understand and master her abilities. She had grown in more ways than one. Yet, there was still something that left her to wonder. What exactly was her purpose in all of this? She would often think about it. But time and time again she could not find the answer.

Suddenly the sound of crunching leaves and cracking branches coming from behind startled the lady. She quickly stood and whipped around. Her eyes grew wide as a young girl with dirty golden hair emerged from the woods holding a water canteen. In meeting with Morgana’s gaze, the child froze in her tracks. By looking at her soft pink skirts and simple corset, Morgana knew that the girl was a commoner. She was no more than ten years of age.

Following behind the child were a man and a woman. Morgana quickly assumed they were her parents. The mother was wrapped in a heavy woolen blanket, the father’s arms around her as he held her firmly with each step. She was incredibly pale and clearly very weak. 

Morgana quietly watched, her usual curious nature getting the better of her. The man gently helped his wife sit by the riverside holding her closely. Morgana stared at his concerned expression as he spoke to her. He kissed her head, brushing his fingers through her light hair. It forced Morgana to turn away for a moment, the familiarity all too real.

As he headed back into the woods, the young girl waded into the water. Morgana’s eyes were fixated on the woman who seemed to struggle to stay upright. The mother fought hard to remain conscious, watching her daughter splash in the shallow river. Her smile, though tired, remained genuine. 

Morgana hadn’t known that look; she had barely known her mother. She caressed her slightly bulging belly and began to wonder. Perhaps she hadn’t completely come to terms with it. How could she? She never had someone to show her how.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she watched the woman’s head began to fall forward. Morgana instinctively approached. She knelt beside the woman, easing her to the ground carefully. “You’re alright,” she whispered.

“Papa!” She heard the young girl call out. The child quickly ran to her mother’s side. At the sound of his daughter’s cry, the man emerged from the woods once more and rushed over to his wife. He took the canteen from the girl and pulled the woman toward him. Very carefully, he brought the water to her lips.

“What’s wrong with her?” Morgana abruptly asked.

The man looked to Morgana with a hesitant expression. He looked down at his wife, whose eyes fluttered as she struggled to breathe. 

Morgana looked toward the young girl standing beside her father with such fear in her innocent eyes. She wanted to help in whatever way she could. “I-” she hesitated. “I was once very close… to a young physician.” Her gaze returned to the father. “I know of some herbal remedies. One that may help her.” He was still silent. Morgana continued, “It could at least give her strength until you can reach a proper physician.”

Finally, the man nodded. “We are on our way to Cambre. There is a physician whom we pray can help her.” His voice was deep and commanding, though it shook with great nervousness. “She has been feverish and grows weaker as the days pass.” He used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe the sweat from her brow. “I fear it may be some kind of internal infection.”

Morgana nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

O-o-O-o-O

Merlin had always been the one who knew about and understood herbs. He was the physician’s assistant, after all. Though Morgana’s knowledge was limited, she felt that she could put something together from what Merlin had taught her. But there was so little in that one location. 

Morgana looked over her shoulder at the husband cradling his wife by the riverside. She bit her lower lip. What would Morgause think about this? If she knew, Morgana thought, she would undoubtedly be furious. Nevertheless, Morgana looked toward the ground for anything that she knew would be non-toxic to ingest. The petals of a soft white flower, the roots from a harmless weed, the juice from a berry just to remove the bitterness from the other plants. She did her best to break the ingredients up with her fingers and set them into a small bowl that the man had provided her. Morgana then walked over to edge of the river to spoon several handfuls of water in with mixture. 

Stirring the dark liquidy concoction with her fingers, she whispered a short enchantment under her breath. She repeated the words two more times, still not entirely sure that what she was doing was right. But it was better than doing nothing at all. Since leaving Camelot, she had been learning some healing magic. She could only hope it was enough. The magical mixture began to change to a purplish-blue color as the texture seemed to smooth out just from her touch.

As she stood from the edge of the water and turned around, the young woman noticed the child standing just a few feet away. Morgana froze for a moment, fearing that the girl had been able to hear her quiet incantations. However, she simply turned around and ran back to her father without a word. Morgana let the nervousness pass with a gentle sigh and returned to the ailing woman and her family. 

She knelt beside the woman. Her breathing had become more erratic in their short time together. Morgana brought the small wooden bowl to the woman’s lips, and watched the girl’s blank expression from the corner of her eye. She tilted the bowl forward and back, allowing for breaths between small sips. Once at least half of the mixture had been consumed, Morgana set the bowl on the ground beside her. She bunched up the end of her skirts and wiped the remaining liquid from the woman’s chin. 

They waited, hoping that her remedy would help somehow. Morgana’s apologetic green eyes met with the father’s air of sorrow. But just as she opened her mouth to apologize for her failure, the golden haired woman took in a deep inhale. Her breathing instantly became clearer, as her lids began to flutter and open.

A laugh filled with fear and excitement escaped the grown man’s lips. “Thank the gods,” he exclaimed, leaning forward to embrace his wife. He kissed her forehead.

Morgana’s eyes lit up. More so because she had managed to succeed with her enchantment. But also because she had just _done_ something with her magic. For so many months she had been practicing and reading with her sister; understanding and listening. Now she was finally doing.

O-o-O-o-O

She would see them off. While Morgana wanted to make sure the family made it into town, she knew Morgause would question it. There would be speculations; ones that Morgana had no desire to deal with. Morgause was the only other person— other than her father— who could see through any of her lies. Morgana stood, brushing the wrinkles from her green silk skirts. She folded her hands over her abdomen and straightened her posture.

“We cannot thank you enough,” the father expressed, his arms securely around his wife’s shoulders.

“I’m just glad I could help,” Morgana nodded to them both. 

As the man led his wife to their small wooden cart, the daughter stepped around towards Morgana. Her soft hazel eyes seemed to be surveying the young witch. They migrated down from Morgana’s eyes to her folded hands and back up. She offered the lady a silent grin as her furrowed brow and curious expression softened. 

Even though she wasn’t entirely sure if the child had seen her use magic, Morgana could sense something. The girl wouldn’t say anything had she witnessed it. There was unexplainable honesty in those eyes, Morgana thought. She felt as though she could trust it.

Morgana bid the family farewell as they continued their journey towards the town of Cambre, south of Essetir. 

O-o-O-o-O

She listened to the sound of her shoes as they met with the stone floor. It echoed through the narrow corridors along with the very faint sound of her sister’s deep voice. Morgana continued towards the throne room to inform the other two of her return. However, the young witch suddenly stopped in her tracks when she heard that familiar name… _Merlin._

“He’s smart… for a meer servant boy,” Morgana heard her sister say.

“The boy has just gotten lucky,” Cenred replied in his usual irritable tone. 

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Morgause snapped back. “He knows more than he leads others to believe.”

Morgana quietly continued on, the echoing voices becoming clearer. She carefully peered around the corner. Morgause stood over what looked to be a bathing tub, though it was clear she was not using it for that reason. It had to be magic. Though the young brunette couldn’t clearly see, there seemed to be more voices, familiar ones, coming from the tub. _Merlin… Arthur…_ What was Morgause planning, and why was she not telling Morgana?

“We cannot let him get in the way again,” Morgause said.

Cenred huffed, “I will _not_ waste my time or my men to make sure a _servant_ is out of your way.”

“There is no need,” the witch replied. “My sister… and the child… they are the key.”

Morgana felt a churning in her stomach. What could Morgause have meant by that? She turned back around the corner with deep breath. As the conversation came to a lull, Morgana made the quick decision to retreat to her bedchambers. Too many thoughts started to fill her mind. She returned down the corridor from whence she came, only to be stopped on she was hoping to avoid. 

“Sister,” she heard from behind, “you’ve returned.”

Morgana turned back while trying to paint a false smile upon her lips. She nodded, “Only just. I thought I might freshen up in my chambers before our lesson.”

Morgause nodded as she approached her younger sister. She brushed a strand of Morgana’s thick dark hair behind her ear and grinned. “The fresh air does you good, as it does good for the baby as well.” Morgana nervously smiled in return. “I shall be waiting for you in the library.”

Morgana turned and watched as Morgause continued passed her and down the castle corridor. The young woman’s hands trembled as she placed them on her slightly bulging stomach almost defensively. She let out her held breath as her sister disappeared from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No flashback in this chapter, but there are sure more to come as the story progresses. 
> 
> I am also aware that we are not 100% sure if sorceresses can hear sound when scrying in water, but I made a creative writing choice and I feel it will definitely help in future situations in the story. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS, let me know if there are flashbacks you might want to see, or what you think Morgause's plan is for Morgana and the baby?


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